


294. witch hunt

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [29]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Monster Hunters, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re here to find the monster,” Helena says, voice quiet.</p>
<p>The hunter looks up; her eyes go up and down Helena and settle on Helena’s eyes. They don’t linger on Helena’s muddy dress or Helena’s muddy feet or the tangle of Helena’s hair. Which she appreciates.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I am,” says the hunter. “My name’s Sarah. I’m gonna help you, okay?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	294. witch hunt

The hunter has come to Helena’s town to find monsters, and kill them. That’s what hunters are for: killing monsters. Killing everything that isn’t Right or Good or shining in the dark.

She comes to town on a motorbike and she is Right and Good and shining, Helena can tell – Helena can see it tangled in the mess of her hair and in the light glinting off the knives and gun on her belt. Helena can’t quite bring herself to come close to her; instead she hides behind a tree at the edge of town, holds her breath like she could hear what the hunter has to say from all the way over here.

As it is, she only catches fragments. _A month ago—_ murmurs one of the sisters from the church, wringing her hands. _Ate the chickens – cursed – teeth – hell-creature_. Helena shifts from foot to foot. She’s terrified, but only a little bit; it hurts in her back and her wrists and the roof of her mouth, but not her eyes. Her eyes are sharp enough to see, her ears are sharp enough to hear. The hunter nods seriously to everything the nun says. From here Helena can see the look on her face: it’s serious enough to say that she knows this is a problem, but not too serious. It’s a face that says _I understand, and I can fix it_. Helena’s bare toes curl and uncurl in the dirt.

She waits until the nun heads back inside and the hunter starts checking the bags on her motorcycle. Then she slips out of the woods and pads to the front of the church.

“You’re here to find the monster,” she says, voice quiet.

The hunter looks up; her eyes go up and down Helena and settle on Helena’s eyes. They don’t linger on Helena’s muddy dress or Helena’s muddy feet or the tangle of Helena’s hair. Which she appreciates.

“Yeah, I am,” says the hunter. “My name’s Sarah. I’m gonna help you, okay?”

Helena nods. The hunter’s voice has an accent different from everyone else’s here, and Helena likes it. She ducks her head. Her toes wriggle in the dirt. She says: “I can help. I know where it sleeps.”

She does. There’s a cave on the edge of town. Near where the chickens used to be, and now aren’t. It’s a terrifying place; even from many footsteps away Helena can smell it, chicken blood and monster-smell. Maybe the hunter can make it clean. Maybe the hunter can fix it.

“Do you,” says the hu—says Sarah. She gives Helena that look again. _Thank you so much for telling me. I understand. I can fix it._

“Yes,” Helena says eagerly, just to bask in that look a little bit longer. “I can show you. Now. If you want.”

“Lead the way,” says Sarah. Helena heads back towards the woods, quick, before the nuns can see where she’s going. The nuns don’t like her. The nuns have never, _ever_ liked her. But they don’t stick out their sour faces to yell at her to stop that, or get inside, or listen to them for once. They don’t yell about her muddy dress or her muddy feet or her tangled hair and then she and Sarah (Sarah!) are in the woods. Helena relaxes. She likes the woods. The woods are safe.

“So, the monster,” Sarah says. “Can you tell me about it? All the nuns said was that it ate all the chickens, and it had a lot of teeth.” Says her voice: _I appreciate them, but I trust_ you _. You can tell me everything. I understand, and I can fix it._

“I don’t know,” Helena says with a shrug. “I have never seen it. Only where it sleeps.” She pauses; her toes claw dirt. “I don’t think it wants to hurt people, Sarah. It’s hungry. Like everybody else.” She sucks her lips between her teeth, curls her fingers into the skin over her stomach.

“It ever attacked a person?” Sarah says.

Helena shakes her head, an emphatic _no_. She blinks at Sarah, and then says – because Sarah will understand – “I think maybe you. If you try to hurt it. It will hurt you too. Sarah.” She stops.

Sarah sighs, loud and long in the hush of the woods. She doesn’t answer.

“Are you going to?” Helena says insistently. “Even if it doesn’t want to hurt you? Even if it doesn’t want to hurt anybody? Will you hurt it?”

“It’s my job,” Sarah says. That isn’t an answer either. Helena’s heart bangs insistently against her ribs, loud and frightened. She wants to hold Sarah’s hand. This is in part because she wants the feeling of Sarah’s hand in hers. This is in part to keep Sarah from reaching for the knife.

And then they’re at the cave. Helena lets Sarah go first, into the dark, into the stone blood-stinking mouth. She folds her lips between her teeth, and her teeth, and her teeth.

Sarah pulls the pistol out of her belt and pads deeper into the cave, silent and sure. Helena swallows down all the drool in her dry mouth and follows her into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


End file.
